


Played

by heidiamalia



Series: Moments in the After [5]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, frank plays a prank, i felt curtis could use a moment, i just didnt realize how close it'd come to the first in the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-05 23:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heidiamalia/pseuds/heidiamalia
Summary: It's a short list.-In which Curtis meets Karen.





	Played

**Author's Note:**

> Curtis deserves to give Frank shit. he's copacetic.  
> bring on s2 damnit.

They are trading barbs after group leaves when he spots her blonde hair peeking in from the doorway.

“Hey,” Frank says midlaugh, lifting his chin when he caught her. “We'll be done in a minute.”

Curtis watches as she takes a step inside the basement recreation room, her hands in her jacket pockets. Her toes rock a little, kitten heels clicking, her tall frame wiry and shivering. She leans on the far wall, ankles flush to the heater on the floorboard.

He glances at Frank, dipping his chin down and looking at him from under his eyelashes. They flutter as his lip turns up in a smirk. His tone is joking, a shoulder dropping to mock, “Oh we will?”

“No worries,” she tells them lightly. Her own shoulders lift as she glances around and her red coat cinches closer when her mouth opens, chattering teeth. She’s wearing a deep blue sweater dress that reaches her knees, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. He's used to all kinds of strays wandering in for the soup, so he lets her defrost if she needs a moment.

Curtis grasps two more chairs from the floor and walks them back as Frank set his own on the rail. “Get some coffee,” Frank offers. Her head bobs forward, the half-up hairstyle bouncing off her shoulders.

“It's a lot warmer in here than it is in the car,” the woman says. She's making her way over to the small table, shoving a brown stirrer in the side of her mouth and pouring a cup. Her fingers dance over the multiple choice in creamer versus milk pitchers before deciding on creamer. “Took ten minutes from my place just to get the heat going.” She's ripping sugar packets and dropping the empties in the small trash bin before turning around to look at them, hugging the cup close. “I have to get that looked at.”

Curtis takes a peek at her again as he's pushing a pile of cushioned metal seats beneath the rack, tucking them into place. She is neatly put together, out of place yet comfortable with strangers. Oddly familiar looking. Her coat looks too light, too fashionable for winter weather. The shade of her nose is a deep pink, evidence the temperature has dropped again since they arrived for group after dark. She brings the cup to her mouth, sighing to herself. He catches a purple coat of polish on her fingernails.

“Stop _staring_ , Curt,” Frank mutters at him, and to the blonde, his voice clear, “Hey. Did you forget your gloves or something?” He's stacked more chairs from under the crucifix, flipping them with his wrist to settle the last of them on the rod.

She's mid-gulp when she nods. “You said you saw them in the car but I couldn't find them.” Her fingers flex sharply, still stiff.

There is a second before it clicks in Curtis's head that these two actually know each other and his head rears back. “ _Pete,_ ” he exclaims, teasing, “you gonna introduce me?”

Frank chuckles when he looks at him. His head is already shaking, “Nope.” The pop in the word nearly echoes and he can see her roll her eyes at his reluctance, a flash of bright teeth. She sets the coffee down and takes a step towards him, still stretching her fingers on the hand that she rests at her side. The other is up to shake his.

“Sorry,” she says to him. “He tells me enough stories that I forget we haven't actually met, yet.” Her eyes scan his face, catching the scars on his cheek. They are soft, sympathetic. “You're Curtis.”

Now that she's close, he can see her a bit clearer. Blue eyes, pink tinted pout, faded shimmery white lines on the end of her chin and cheek. The _T_ shape of the one on her forehead, a shade darker. She's pretty.

He grips her right hand to shake when it hits him again, seeing her editorial photo flash in his head. “Karen Page,” he declares. Her hand _is_ freezing, and she drops it shortly after.

The story in the papers left everyone with questions, but she leans in to answer one of his. “You were a big part of how Frank came to help me that day at the hotel.”

_It's a short list._

The man comes up to stand beside them, reaching for her fingers gently. Karen turns to watch him flatten both his hands around hers, rubbing them together. “Icy,” he says. “Fuck, that's cold.” She shoves her other in her jacket while he works. Frank brings it to his lips, breathing out heat. A tender kiss.

Curtis catches the move before it's even happening, and he shakes his head. Frank's eyes are soft.

“Coffee,” he sighs, a decision made. Walking between them to get to the table, Frank manages to slip his fingers around her wrist. Karen’s eyes roll again but she smiles still. Her finger makes its way through one of his belt loops. When he lets go he's already got the arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.

It's a very short walk though, and she settles to turn and lean against the coffee table, hand slipping slow from its place to inch back into her own pocket.

Curtis turns to grab his coat.

“What are your plans tonight?” he calls to them, digging his car keys out from the inside, the gloves tucked in the zippered compartment. He wants to know everything about how easy he looks next to her. Give him shit for it later. “Anything fun?”

Frank has already poured himself a black coffee, a low laugh breaking through his mouth, and then he's tearing more sugar packets into Karen's open cup, sans lid. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His body turns around, thigh flush with hers. His tongue is jutting into his cheek, head bobbing side to side, playful. Curtis doesn't think she's noticed.

She speaks when he takes a long drink, her own grip on the cup in hand tight to circulate warmth, bringing it back to her mouth, hovering. “Uh, the Liebermans,” one of her hands wave, her eyes squinting, remembering. “Not too far, gonna watch the ball drop on TV, have some drinks.”

Frank is nodding, brushing granules off his fingers by wiping his chest, and then his face is confused, digging into his own coat. Karen opens her mouth, maybe to ask him what his plans were, protests _hey_ when her dress is sprinkled in sugar. She's patting herself down, and Curtis can see the curve of her hip, the way her waist dips when the fabric stretches and her coat opens. The way Frank's eyes follow.

Hands move frantic over a bulge in his chest pocket, and he coughs a laugh once to get her attention. Karen and Curtis both watch as Frank pulls out a pair of striped green and white gloves. Fondness is a game of hide and seek on the edge of her mouth.

She sips her overly sweetened brew - maybe to recover from the way her eyelids fluttered, Curtis spots - and he watches the moment her face scrunches up, distaste in her throat. Karen lowly whispers his name, realization dawning all over her cheeks. Frank is turning his face away from her, caught, blistering pink, lip exposing teeth.

He trades their cups. Apologizes. Chuckles - he’s bashful - when Karen's eyebrows raise briefly in challenge, before smiling widely at him.

“ _Christ_ ,” he mutters quietly. He catches the awed tone.

“Kick in the balls,” Curtis confirms when he zips his jacket shut. He's shaking his head side to side in disbelief. Karen is digging her hands into her gloves, standing upright. “Amirite Frank?”

  


**Author's Note:**

> lol hi it's me, i'm on tumblr.


End file.
